


Into the Light

by astudyinfic



Category: SPECTRE (2015), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, M/M, Modern amenities with 1910 aesthetic, Solarpunk AU, War, corrupt government
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:45:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4416305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinfic/pseuds/astudyinfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a life lived in darkness, Q thought it could be a lot worse.  Until Apollo himself walked into his life and encouraged him to step out into the light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

For a life lived entirely at night, Q thought it could be a lot worse.  Living in the darkness had some advantages.  He was rarely interrupted in the middle of important work and while company might be nice on occasion, in the end he had his cats and his experiments and that was more than enough for Q.  At home, he was able to wear all the current styles, even ones that had not yet been released to the public.  Most of the technology involved in the attire was of his invention after all.  And he enjoyed the solitude.  It was comforting not to have to depend on anyone for anything.

These were the things he told himself and someday, Q hoped that he would come to believe them.  As it was, being forced to live in the shadows forced him away from virtually all society and left him quite lonely.  The only solace he allowed himself was to go out at night, walk among the people as if he belonged with them but even then, they knew.  Their clothes glowed with the solar power they had collected throughout the day while Q’s remained dim and unimpressive.  A man forever shrouded in darkness, bringing light to everyone but himself.

Q had never been able to feel the sun on his face, or enjoy a midday concert in the park or a picnic with a lover.  The sun - that which powered their entire society - was his ultimate enemy, something his parents had learned when he was still an infant.  He had been told that occasionally there were others like him, those whose body could not handle the radiation from the sun and couldn’t repair the damage done to it.  None had ever lived to adulthood.  Only Q, with his analytical mind up for any challenge that presented itself and parents absolutely determined to keep him safe, had made it past age twenty and now, at twenty eight, he felt confident that he had the skills and technology necessary to make it twice that long.

It meant a life isolated from a world that revolved around sunlight.  Over one hundred years ago, solar energy had been harnessed to power everything from streetlights to ovens. The technology had grown exponentially since then and society followed suit.  The people themselves became conduits of this electricity, gathering it in their clothing: the linen suits, full skirts and broad straw hats that were popular among the people of London.  No longer relegated to collecting the energy from just ugly cells on top of the buildings, it was woven into everything from windows to clothes to umbrellas.  Everything revolved around the sun and it’s light, leaving people like Q as outsiders forever.

As society’s dependence on the sun grew, so did their devotion to it.  Once more statues to Apollo began to reappear, more symbolic now compared to the literal interpretation the Greeks had eons ago.  His likeness also graced their currency, a beaming sun behind his head on the sparkling copper coins that jingled in the pockets of those walking through the open air markets or stained glass mezzanines.  The cult of Apollo had found it’s place in modern day London.  If only the Greeks could see him now.  As a scientist, Q told himself that it was best that he lived apart from such nonsense, having no time for what he believed to be a faux religion and childish beliefs.  

He grew to appreciate his solitude, reminding himself that he never had to answer to anyone, or risk offending people.  He often saw couples arguing in parks on the cool nights - sometimes good-naturedly debating which pianist was the tops or more forcefully over not collecting their share of electricity to keep the society running - and Q congratulated himself on avoiding that unpleasantness all together..  As one unable to go out during day, Q was exempted from the collection requirements placed upon every citizen.  Such exemptions were only for the exceptionally old and invalid, of which Q was considered, even though he thought himself perfectly healthy by most standards.  He was paler and smaller than most but otherwise, as long he stayed away from the sun’s rays, he looked like any other man in the city.

When he was a teen, Q rarely listened to the comments about him, whispered as he walked by in his dim suit.  Most considered him a rebel, an anarchist.  It never crossed their minds that he couldn’t even go out in their precious daytime but it suited him for them to think him rebellious instead of broken.  He could deal with their disgust; he couldn’t handle the pity.

As he got older though and his parents passed away, leaving him with no outlet for his social needs, Q began to realize that he would need to do better to fit in, to look like everyone else if he wished to have a conversation outside of contract negotiations for work, always done via email since no business was open during the night when he was active.  He would leave solar panels outside his door before going to bed in the morning, retrieving them when the sun went down.  Plugging them into his apparel, he looked like everyone else, with the illuminated floral patterns on his pale coloured fabric.  Soon, he was able to walk through the crowds and no one whispered at all.  It was a lovely silence compared to the lonely one of his lab and he began to seek out the crowds more than he ever had when he was younger.

One night, Q found a small cafe with seats on the sidewalk that served the most lovely cup of tea he had ever enjoyed.  And while he sat there, sipping his cuppa, Q began to wonder if he had been mistaken for if he was one to put faith in such things, he would wager money that he just saw Apollo himself walk past from the table where he had situated himself. The man was muscled and tanned where Q was thin and pale.  His blond hair looked as if it would shine in the rays of the sun where Q's own dark hair appeared made for the moonlight.  The man was everything Q wasn't.  Breath catching in his throat when the man’s blue eyes met his green, Q turned his attention back to his tea and the next time he looked up, he was gone.  

Even after he returned home that night, Q could not get the image of the man out of his head and returned night after night to the same cafe, ordering the same drink and sitting at the same table, waiting for his Apollo to walk past.  He was never disappointed as the man seemed to abide by a strict schedule.  Soon enough they smiled and nodded at each other, the small act causing butterflies to flutter in Q’s stomach long after he had gone to bed that morning.

As much as he fancied Apollo, as he called the man within his own mind, Q knew there was nothing to be done to move the dreams he cherished from fantasy to reality.  Apollo was a man of the sun, of light and action and everything Q must remain away from.  It would not be fair to pull Apollo into the darkness with him, depriving everyone else of the sight of the perfect man simply for his own enjoyment.

"If only there was a way to solve my problem,” Q would muse each night.  He dove head first into genetic research, thinking he could cure himself, a thought that he had tried and failed to prove time and time again.  Once more it failed but with the prospect of a normal life, a life where he might be able to offer something to the man of his dreams besides solitude and darkness, Q continued to work.  For himself.  For Apollo.  A breakthrough was possible, he knew it.  And he wasn’t going to give up until it happened.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with the story. I had intended to update sooner than this but health concerns always seem to derail those plans. However, here it is and I hope you enjoy. A little more insight into a world that isn't as beautiful and wonderful as it may look on the surface but really, in the end, this is a story of two men and you get a good deal more of both of them this chapter.

Eyes wide, pulse racing, Q knew he had something truly special.  It wasn’t a cure - he had long ago given up on that goal as hopeless or at least beyond modern thinking - but this should work.  It _had_ to work.  Every test he ran came back with the right results; the formula was successful and it would protect him entirely.  Staring down at the numbers, all of his evidence, Q felt an anticipation he had never experienced.  The sun was going to be his, at least for a small period of time.  To finally go out in its rays and experience everything he had only heard about was a dream come true.  But in the end, it was the thought that he might be able to offer something to the Apollo-esque man besides darkness and solitude that made Q decide tomorrow would be the day.  He couldn’t risk going to his usual cafe; it would be too far off a run back to his flat if this cream he had developed failed and he fell ill but he preferred that anyway.  There was no reason to go someplace and risk the man seeing him before he knew if it would work.

Some part of his mind told him that he was ridiculous, that doing all of this to meet a man he had never even held conversation with was borderline obsessive.  He rationalized it by thinking that this would help others, not just him, and every person who could go into the sun made their society more productive.  The war still raged on and with it the government’s demands for more weapons, more tech, more power only seemed to grow.  The battlefields were a long way from the peaceful London streets but Q’s world revolved around them just the same thanks to the work he did for the war effort and for society as a whole.  He believed that his country was just, not wishing to give up their already limited solar power to another nation who demanded it, but he grew tired of being alone, a pawn with no agency of his own considering he was already an outcast.  For once, one of his projects would offer him something as well.  After twenty eight years of using his intelligence and skill to justify his continued existence to himself and society, Q was finally ready to be selfish for once.  

Choosing a cafe on the same block as his home, Q covered himself in the formula he had created, a light cream he rubbed over every inch of exposed skin.  Layering on fabric afterward to avoid sun exposure before he was ready, Q had wool clothing covering every inch of his skin besides his face which was shaded by a straw hat and his normal radiation protective glasses.  He looked odd and warm but right now, that did not matter.  What mattered was gathering the evidence he needed.  Fashion could come later once he was certain that he could survive this quick trip out into daylight.  

The short walk to the cafe had his heart pounding in fear, certain every person on the street could hear its thumps echoing in his chest and he slipped into the cafe as quickly as he could.  Multi-coloured light shone through the window, tinted glass throwing different hues around the room.  Q found a spot in the far back, away from any window before he began to slowly uncover himself, removing the layers of wool that made him stand out in a world of linen.  Safely storing his things on the seat next to him, Q ordered a cuppa and sat back to enjoy the harpist this particular establishment employed, a rare moment in light for a man who lived in the shadows.

No sunlight hit him where he was and Q chastised himself for being so afraid.  He knew his formula was sound and yet, when putting his own life on the line, he worried he wouldn’t be able to do it.  The men and women who carried his weapons, wore the protective uniforms he designed, all put themselves on the line day in and out and here he was, terrified to reach out and let a filtered beam of light hit his hand.  Each song found him giving himself a pep talk, an inner monologue to move forward and feel the sun on his skin.  The words were mumbled into his ever cooling tea, earning him odd glances from those around him but otherwise he was left alone.

As the sun began to dip behind the building and light began to fade, Q realized he was missing his chance.  Panic that he would have to do this again propelled him forward and out of the cafe, onto the sidewalk in a matter of moments.  Inside the restaurant he had dodged the people but when he flew out of the door, he ran directly into Apollo himself having not been watching anything but the sun slipping ever lower in the skies.  Strong hands closed around his shoulders, holding him upright.  “Are you alri...?” the man started to ask when recognition dawned in his eyes and he smiled brightly, “It’s you!  Do you go from cafe to cafe all day long?  This isn’t your normal location.”  

Words died in Q’s throat, struck silent by the fact that they were standing here face to face in the sunlight actually talking.  Well, Apollo was talking while Q gaped soundlessly and people passed, snickering lightly at the poor man who had been rendered speechless.  With a gulp, Q managed to pull himself together for a moment to answer, “I never come here. I prefer the other one but this is closer to home and today, that was what I needed.”  

“Wish to trade one cafe for another?  I’m on our way to the other one right now if you care to join me.”

It was everything Q could have wanted but as he stood there in the dying light of the sun, he knew that he would not be going anywhere tonight.  His skin felt itchy and he was terrified at having to explain to the man why he had so many coats that he would need to retrieve from his table here.  As much as it pained him, Q shook his head.  “Any other night, I would love to say yes but today....”  He trailed off with a sigh.  “I have work to finish at home.  Could I take you up on it another day?”

Apollo hid his disappointment well but there was a flash of it in his eyes that Q caught, giving him hope that maybe he hadn’t completely sabotaged himself.  “I understand.  I will be seeing you around then.”  

As the man started to walk away, Q felt a pang that the conversation was over so soon.  “Q,” he blurted out for lack of anything else to say.  “My name is Q.”  It wasn’t, not officially, but that was what everyone knew him as and he had no desire to go back to using his real name now or ever.  “I hope to be back at the cafe tomorrow.  Will I see you then?”

“Bond.  James Bond,” Apollo smiled, sticking out his hand to shake Q’s.  “Q is an unusual name.  I expect the full story behind it tomorrow.”  With a nod and flirtatious wink, Apollo - _James_ \- turned and continued on down the street, leaving an awestruck Q in his wake.

He stood gaping in the middle of the sidewalk, only to be drawn from his stunned thoughts by someone brushing his shoulder as they attempted to push passed, something that reminded him to close his mouth and blink.  Only after another few seconds did the itching on his skin draw Q’s attention away from James’ perfectly formed arse in linen trousers.  He swore under his breath as he looked at his slightly reddened hands and hurried back into the cafe, determined to wait until the sun had gone down before venturing back out to return home.  Q slipped past the wicker chairs that surrounded each table and nodded to the harpist as he dodged the other patrons who were up and socialising while the music took intermission.

As he sat in his dark corner, Q rubbed his hands together, staring at the redness that was quickly fading now that he was out of the sun.  They didn’t hurt so much as looked unpleasant and he wondered what it was that caused the reaction.  Pulling out a notebook, he took detailed notes, determining new questions that needed to be answer before the next test.  However, it was clear that he was still alive, he wasn’t ill and he would easily be able to walk home that evening.  It was progress and Q reveled in the fact that not only had he held a conversation with the man who was the focus of his attention but also stood in the sun for the first time since he was an infant.  All in all, Q was certain that this had been the best day of his life so far.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

An allergic reaction?

That was close to the last thing Q expected.  Sun damage? Sure.  Chemical burn? Would make sense.  A simple allergic reaction to the coconut oil he used to spread his solution on his skin?  Yeah, it’s amazing he ever figured that out.

It wasn’t simply the coconut oil but also the increased temperature due to sun exposure that truly caused the redness he had experienced but switching from that to an aloe based cream seemed to solve the problem and soon, Q found that walking in the open markets truly was as fascinating as he had hoped.  The thrill of being in the marketplaces lost some of its effect when the shop fronts were closing down and most people had already left for the night.  Being there at noon, when the place was bustling and sellers called out to shoppers as they passed by was an experience that Q thought he would never get tired of.  Often, he worried that the others would find him to be a little odd, the smile permanently on his face as he tried to take in everything, spinning around when something new caught his eyes.  He bumped into people on more than one occasion but most were polite and accepted his apologies with a smile and nod.

But the true highlight was his evening talks with James.  Q had shown up the next night, terrified that something he said had scared the man away and yet, James had smiled and shaken his hand when he walked up to the table and the conversation flowed as easily as the coding did from Q’s fingertips.  He found out that James was in international sales, something that occasionally had him traveling but more often than not meant a lot of paperwork and waiting around for his next assignment.  The blond remained vague about his work, saying it was dull compared to what Q did.  Question after question came from the man, fascinated that someone so young could be so successful without anyone ever knowing his name.  Even when Q tried to downplay the importance of his work (without ever mentioning the classified information since he preferred to keep his head firmly on his shoulders thank-you-very-much), James insisted that he had never met anyone like Q.

As exciting as it all was for Q, he grew weary from being out all day and still trying to keep up his work schedule at night.  More often than not, he found himself resting his chin in his hand toward the end of his conversation with James, yawning broadly and struggling to stay awake while still desperate to spend time with the other.  “Are you alright, Q?” James finally asked, leaning in to rest one of his tanned hands on Q’s pale one.  “You look like you might fall asleep right here at the table.”

“I’m fine.  Maybe working too hard but I’ll be fine.”  Something would have to give,Q knew.  Either he needed to stop going out all day or he needed to find a way to work while the sun was out.  Neither was all that appealing and he didn’t really know what he was going to do.  Lost in his thoughts about how to bring order back to his life, it took Q a moment to realize that James was talking once more.

“I understand that your work is important but you are no good to anyone if you do not sleep.  When was the last time you had a full night’s rest?”  Overwrought, the question brought a giggle to Q’s lips, bubbling up from deep inside him.  “What is so funny?  You are important to me and you aren’t taking care of yourself!”

Q started at that bit of information, surprised that James thought so much about him. _You are important to me._  The best words Q had ever heard. “I haven’t slept all night in nearly my entire life James,” Q stated once he pulled himself together.  If James was concerned about him, then Q thought he deserved to know the truth.  “I have a condition.  I can’t go out in sunlight as my skin cannot repair itself from the radiation damage.  It could kill me so I grew up in the darkness.  In fact, the first time I can ever remember feeling sun on my skin was a week ago when I ran into you outside the cafe.  That was literally the first moment since I was an infant that I stood in the sun.”  Q's heart hammered in his chest, threatening to pound its way out.  He had never shared his affliction with anyone but his family and doctor and Q worried how James would take it.

“How is that possible?  I’ve seen you out several times this week.  It has still been light when we both arrive here at the cafe.  If you are truly that sick from the sunlight, how have you been out in it?”  Q couldn’t blame James for questioning him.  It had to seem odd to someone who lived their lives the way society dictated, soaking up the solar rays both for the health benefits as well as to collect power for the government.  Plus, Q hadn’t explained how it was possible now when it hadn’t been before.

Taking off his glasses, he handed them to James, “These have special UV protective lenses.  Now sunlight will reach my eyes or the skin around them.  The rest is a little more complicated. I spent the last month developing a chemical that would create a barrier between my skin and the radiation from the sun.  I coat it on my skin before I leave in the morning and return home halfway through the day for another dose.  By the time I meet you here, my protection is almost gone but since we always stay until well past dark, I haven’t worried too much.  I suppose in the summer I will need to be more careful though.”

James looked at Q’s glasses, turning them over in his hand but could see nothing unusual about them.  “I will have to take your word for it.  But this brings to mind one question, why?  Why risk going out in the sun at all?  If you had lived all your life up until a week ago just fine at night, what would possibly cause you to risk everything?  The sun isn’t that great, contrary to what the government might want us to think.”  Those were practically treasonous words but James seemed to have no qualms saying them in public.

“Do you have any idea what it is like to live in a society that worships the one thing that could kill you faster than anything else?  To have people point and whisper about you as you pass because you lack the glow - both literal and metaphorical - that people who can walk in the sunlight have?  Do you know the conflicting emotions I experienced when I finally saw something I didn’t think I could live without but the only way to have it would be to be a sun walker like everyone else?”  Q hadn’t meant to blurt all of that out, particularly not the last line and his eyes widened in terror when he realized what he just said.

“What is worth risking your life, Q?  It doesn’t make sense to me.”  James’ brow furrowed and Q bit back a hysterical laugh at how truly puzzled the other man was.  Surely he was thinking of some material possession and not another human being.  “Q, I care about you.  I don’t want you to get sick or worse over something that may seem worth it now.”  He placed his hand on Q’s and Q let his eyes fall shut as he enjoyed the warmth.

The feeling of James’ hand on his gave him strength and with a soft sigh, he turned his palm over to lace their fingers together.  “I think you are worth any risk, actually,” was his quiet reply, eyes trained down on the mosaic table to avoid the embarrassment if James chose to let him down.  Instead, there was a sharp intake of breath and Q’s’ eyes snapped up to meet James’.

“You are a beautiful idiot, you know that,” the blond man uttered fondly, leaning in to give Q a soft kiss, the first Q had experienced over the course of his life.  As his hand came up to cup James’ face, he hoped it wouldn’t be his last.  The man’s lips were soft and supple, moving confidently against his and Q felt as if he were lighter than air, his heart pounding in his chest and mind soaring from the sensation.  

Pulling away after what felt like an eternity, Q sat with a dazed expression on his face, smiling at the other.  “No one’s ever called me that before.”

“Idiot?”

“Beautiful.  Or idiot, actually, now that i think about it.  Honestly, you are helping me record all kinds of firsts tonight.”

“Is that so?”  James’ eyes were amused, twinkling in the now-pale light of dusk.  

Q nodded and stood, “Yes, that is so.  And now, I plan on another first.  The first time I take you back to my flat.  If you are willing of course.”

James stood as well and set his hat on his head before taking Q’s hand.  “Lead the way, Q.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

The first thought that flitted through Q’s mind as he opened the door to his flat was ‘Perhaps I should have straightened up before I left this morning.’  Clutter covered every flat surface, with parts, tools, and in-process inventions lying around wherever he had dropped them last.  There could be no doubt that he either lived alone or had the most understanding housemate on the face of the planet. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, gathering a pile of papers from the sofa and dropping them on a nearby table.  “I don’t really entertain much.”  The truth being that he had never entertained before.  Not even work contacts were allowed at his flat, having decided it was his one sanctuary in the world and he was not going to have it sullied by the presence of others who only wanted him for what he could do for them.  “Can I make you a cuppa?  I personally believe I make the best cup of Earl Grey in the city but I am also terribly biased."

James, for his part, had not said anything about Q’s flat, eyes glancing over the detritus of a busy life but not focusing on any one thing more than they focused on Q.  “You wouldn’t by chance have any coffee, would you?  Tea really isn’t my thing.”

“Tea?  Isn’t your thing?” Q gasped, one hand clutching at his heart and the other bracing himself against a chair.  James rushed to his side, concerned that maybe the sunlight Q had said was deadly for him had finally caught up with him.  Instead, he found Q laughing a little but still looking scandalized.  “I’m sorry, James, but that may be the deal breaker for me.  I can deal with you being handsome and suave and far too perfect but not liking tea?  That is positively unBritish!”

Bond leaned in to whisper in his ear, a smile tugging at his own lips now too, “I once called tea the ‘downfall of the British Empire’.”  He delighted in the horrified gasp from Q who spun around to grasp his lapels.

“And yet you are still alive?  How did you convince them to let you go?  I will hide you if I need, protect you when they come for you as a traitor to Queen and Country.” 

James chuckled once more, wrapping his arms around Q’s waist and drawing him close.  He delighted in the way Q felt against him and he smiled as his hands ran up and down Q’s back.  “And where, my beautiful Q would a man like you hide me?”. The question was asked against Q’s skin, lips brushing against the sensitive area behind Q’s ear.

“I… I know shadows,” Q gasped, head lolling back to let James kiss him more.  “I know shadows and darkness and the hidden places of the night.”  The things James was doing to him sent bursts of electricity down Q’s spine and he could feel his arousal pressing against the confines of his trousers.  James’ own cock was hard against his hip and Q said the next thing that came to his mind without stopping to consider the implications.  “I will hide you in my body if necessary.”

As if that was the invitation James was looking for, his head shifted and he caught Q's lips in a heated kiss.  This was nothing like the one they had shared in the café.  Lips and tongue fought for dominance while teeth gnawed at the sensitive skin and their hands flew all over the other’s body.  Passion flowed out of them in waves and James wasted no time in stripping Q from his suit, hands deftly flicking buttons from their holes and soon Q stood exposed before him. 

Q was not as coordinated, hands shaking while he undid each fasten with more care and concentration than it should have taken but nerves made everything more difficult.  As he slid the shirt from James’ shoulders, his fingers dusted over the golden blond hair on his chest and he felt insecure once more in the way his body looked.  “I am so small and pale compared to you.  You are Apollo himself, a god come to life.  What could you see in me.”  The words were muttered, barely audible over the pounding of their hearts. 

“As are you, Q,” James replied, using two fingers to tilt Q’s chin up so they could meet each other’s eyes.  “I may be Apollo but you are Artemis.  You are the delicateness of moonlight, a cool bath after a hot day.  If I am a god, then so are you.” 

The words were touching and Q smiled though he couldn’t let it pass, “I am a goddess?  I  will have you know I am not a woman.  So. I hope that wasn’t what you were hoping for tonight.”

James’ hand wrapped around Q’s length, causing him to gasp at the sudden sensation. “Trust me when I say, I know that very well.  I know exactly what I want out of tonight and I currently have him in my arms.”

Whether it was the words or actions that convinced Q, neither could say, however, words were lost to them after that, their hands, lips and bodies doing all the talking for them.  James captured Q’s lips once more and backed him up so his knees hit the mattress and Q tumbled backward, James’ following a moment later, covering Q’s thin body with his warm, muscular one.  While Q was inexperienced, his body seemed to know what it wanted and how to get it.  His legs spread open, giving James space to settle between them.  Their lengths free of their trousers and lined up, James made a fist around them both, stroking them together with Q keening underneath.  His head shook from side to side, James’ name and strings of gibberish slipping from his lips between each kiss.  Where the sun had been a pleasure, this was pure bliss.  Q never knew that there could be pleasure this intense, this all-encompassing.  Flames of lust and passion flicked at his consciousness, his entire world reduced to the connections between their bodies. 

It was not long before Q tumbled over the edge, crying out his pleasure into James’ mouth, body taut before collapsing into a boneless mess below James.  He opened his eyes in time to watch his now lover fall as well, enjoying the crinkles around James’ eyes as he came, a face more beautiful than any piece of art Q had ever seen. 

The two lay curled together for awhile, sharing kisses and touches.  When both felt ready to go again, James gently prepared him, watching Q’s face for any sign of distress.  However, he saw nothing but bliss as he penetrated Q, first with his fingers and then his cock, the two of them coming together in the most intimate embrace possible. 

James swallowed the soft gasps from Q’s mouth, giving his own to the shell of Q’s ear as they moved together, bodies synchronized in pleasure.  The sense of connection, of belonging, of being wanted was so intense that Q could hardly stop the tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes.  His hands clung to James’ shoulders, nails leaving small crescents in the tanned skin of James’ back.  His eyes glanced to the various scars of James’ body but he thought nothing of them, his entire focus on the here and now. 

This time, James came first, gasping and grunting, driving himself deep into Q one last time.  As he softened inside his lover, James used his hand to bring Q off as well, both of them twitching as Q’s body contracted around James’ sensitive cock.

Q was pliant and comfortable, more relaxed than he could ever remember being and he lay still while James grabbed a flannel and gently cleaned them both.  Holding out his hand, Q tried to drag James into the bed with him but he shook his head, only bending to kiss Q softly.  “It is almost morning.  You need to sleep and I need to get home to get ready for work.”  A soft sigh and tiny whimper came from Q, who curled onto his side but did nothing to argue against James’ logic. 

He smiled as he felt James pull a blanket over him and kiss his temple.  As he drifted to sleep, he could hear James redressing.  One last kiss and the softly spoken words, “Sleep well, Cris,” floated through his consciousness.  His last thought before sleep took him at last was,

_“There is no way he should know my name.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, some angst and unhappiness coming. All will be resolved. I am the author after all. I can't let our boys be sad.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q realizes that "Apollo" really was too good to be true.

Q woke to an empty home.  That wasn't a surprise as he woke to an empty flat every morning.  But his stomach churned and it took him a moment to realize why anxiety was eating at him. 

_“Sleep well, Cris.”_

As the words came back to him, Q sat straight up in bed.  No one knew his name.  He had deleted it from every database he could find, changing it to a simple Q.  None of his work contacts had ever used his name, his contracts even reading Q.  There was no way James could have possibly known.

His hand ran through his hair as he thought.  It could have been a coincidence; an old lover’s name that fell from James’ lips by mistake.  Cris wasn’t an uncommon name, particularly when you consider all the different spellings.  But what were the chances?  A quick mental calculation had him dismissing the idea out of hand.  It was a coincidence.  James really did know his name. 

The implications of this were alarming.  There was no way Q knew him from childhood.  He had no friends as a child.  His mother had homeschooled him as going to class was too dangerous.  As was playing outside, so meeting the neighborhood children never worked out as Q could play outside only when they were going in for the night.  The last time Q had used his true name – Crispin Marshall Boothroyd, he remembered with a sigh – was when his parents were alive.  He had been a teenager when he started calling himself Q but his parents insisted on using his real name.  But he had not used since their deaths.  A painful reminder of the only people he had ever loved in his life and who had ever loved him.

His interest in going out for the day was gone.  There were more important things to deal with than seeing what life was like for other people.  And the first thing he knew he needed to do was search his flat.  If James knew his real name, there was a chance he knew the nature of his work.  Work that was highly classified and could result in an execution if it fell into the enemy’s hands.  The piles of paper all seemed to be in order and Q breathed a sigh of relief.  While the workspace was cluttered and appeared disorganized, his mind knew where every single thing was.  Nothing from his work was missing.  None of the experiments, none of the technology, none of his notes.  Perhaps it truly was just a fluke and everything was okay. 

His heart slowly returned to its normal rate as he moved to the kitchen to make tea.  It was alright and James randomly guessed his name.  Deciding he deserved a break today, he took his tea to the small library he kept, with a large armchair and plenty of books.  Settling into his chair, Q sipped his tea and grabbed the book he had been reading a few days prior.  Eyes glanced briefly around the room before settling on the pages in front of him.  The uneasy feeling had returned but he didn’t know why. 

As he read, he knew there was something wrong, his eyes passing over the words without comprehending what he had just read.  With a heavy sigh, he put the book down and reached for his tea, the one thing that always calmed his busy mind.  But as he reached for the tea, his eyes spotted an empty space on one of the top shelves.  Not one he looked at very often, filled with his father’s old books and notes from work.  Q remembered his parents talking about numbers and business when he was very small and so Q had drowned it out, never even bothering to look through the papers, just leaving them where they had been the night his parents died.

But, now one of the slim volumes of his dad’s notes was missing.  It appeared others had been pulled out, leafed through and then returned.  But one was missing and for the first time, Q wished he had looked inside so he could know what was gone.  Fear gripped him but in the midst of the panic, disappointment laced its way into his heart.  The first man he had ever been with, the first even invited to his home, and he stole something from him.  Not just that.  James had known.  James knew Cris’ name.  He had come here with the purpose of stealing from him.  Q had been used by the first person he had ever opened himself up to. 

Without knowledge of what had been stolen, Q was reluctant to go to the police.  With the nature of his own work, the fact that he let a perfect stranger into his home and left him unsupervised could have disastrous consequences.  If it truly was only that one book, then it would be best just to let it go.  He had other things of his father’s; things that meant more to him than dusty old journals.

Instead, Q threw himself into his work for the remainder of the day and well into the night.  Without the desire to go out, he got everything done that he had been neglecting and sent an email that it would be ready for delivery the following night.  A courier was arranged and Q found himself once more with nothing to occupy his busy mind.  It was only in the quiet hours after midnight that it occurred to him to look at the other books that were not taken.  Perhaps there would be some clue in there.

Flipping through the book, Q thought there had to be some mistake.  Instead of facts and figures, the business-type things Q had simply assumed were in the small books, Q found drawings.  Intricate models of different designs for weapons and equipment for the war effort.  Some items Q recognized, things he had worked on and repaired in the past.  Others were unfamiliar, things that ran on strange gas combustion engines or some other non-solar energy source.  Impractical and borderline heretical, but they did seem to be functional ideas, at least as far as Q could see.

Hunched over the books, fascinated by his father’s ideas and this new side of a man he once thought he had known, Q hardly realized how much time had passed.  Only a knock at the door drew him from his studies, finding the room to be dark and cold as it was well into the evening.  Unsure who could be calling at such a late hour, Q briefly debated ignoring it in favor of continuing his study.  But curiosity was a strong motivator and so Q threw open the door with the intention of telling the person on the other side to go away.  Met with James’ face, he froze, everything he intended to say vanishing in the blink of an eye.

“Q,” James smiled, looking over his rumpled appearance.  “I was concerned when you weren’t at the café tonight.  I worried that something was wrong.”  He was a good actor, Q would give him that.  He could almost believe that James really did care about him and really was checking on him.

Knowing he would yell once he opened his mouth, Q simply stepped aside to let James into his flat.  No sense in making a scene, particularly when he never once met his neighbors and didn’t want that to be their first impression of him.  Closing the door once James was inside, Q leaned against the door, debating what to say first.  James let the silence drag on, perhaps suspecting that Q needed that time.  Finally, Q opened his mouth and let out three words in nothing more than a hiss.  “Sleep well, Cris?” 

Eyes widening a fraction, James stepped forward, parting his lips to explain but Q didn’t give him a chance.  “How did you know?  No one knows my name.  Not one living person on this planet should have any clue what my real name is.  Yet you let it slip from your lips so easily as if we were close friends instead of barely acquaintances.” 

“Q, let me explain.”

“Let you explain?”  Let you explain what?  How long have you been spying on me this whole time?  How you used me to get to something of my father’s?  How you used my attraction to you, took your pleasure from me and then left, stealing from me in the process?  Please, James – if that is your real name – explain to me how I meant so little to you that you could treat me as nothing but common trash.”  His face was flushed and eyes narrowed, Q was breathing deeply, trying to stop himself from crying.  Now with James here, the pain of what he had done was nearly overwhelming.

James stepped closer, putting his hands out to show he was not dangerous.  “Of course, it is my real name.  But you were right, I did find out who you were before we met.  I did take that book from you.  But I didn’t use you.  I’ve grown to care for you, Q.  I didn’t need to sleep with you to accomplish my goal.  I did that because I wanted to.  Because I wanted you.  You have no idea how much I wanted to stay with you when you fell asleep, hold you close and listen to your soft breath. “

Eyes burning with unshed tears, Q yelled, “Stop!  Why are you telling me this?  Do you think it will make me feel better to know that yes, you were planning on stealing from me but its okay because you think I’m attractive?  It makes it worse, James!  It makes it worse to know to hear you cared and yet still stole that book.” Pausing, Q had to look away, anger and shame at war within himself.  “Who are you, James?  Who is James Bond and what do you want from me?  I deserve to know that much,” he said in a soft voice, broken by James’s words and deeds.

James sighed and nodded his head, “My name is James Bond, just as I said.  I work for Her Majesty’s Secret Service.  As did your father.  I did not know him but his reputation proceeds him.  My job was to come and retrieve his notes for a certain device that no one needs to know England is in possession of.”

“My father has been dead for ten years.  Why now?  Why did you come after me now, after all this time?” 

The simplicity of the answer struck Q to his core.  “Because you were finally getting out of the house.  Because you perfected your cream that left your house unattended.  I would have broken in this week and taken it if you hadn’t invited me back to your place.  But since I was here, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

Because of his cream.  The one thing he had invented for himself, so he could spend time with James, was the one thing that allowed a spy into his life and his home.  Q wanted to scream and cry and throw things and run away from everything.  Instead, he bowed his head and pointed to the door. 

“Get out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me during that ridiculously long hiatus. Hopefully I'm back now and this story will start moving right along. Hugs and kisses to all of you! -J


	6. Chapter 6

In the early evening hours, just after the sun had gone down, the knock he had been expecting all day sounded at his door.  Ever since James left, Q knew it was only a matter of time.  The only question was what they would do with him and if he would ever be allowed to return.  It was with a sense of impending doom that he opened the door and stared at the two people on the other side. 

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, grabbing his coat from behind the door.  “I’m surprised you gave the courtesy of waiting until nightfall.”  When they gave him puzzled expressions, Q merely rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him.  “No one comes to visit me.  They don’t even stop by on accident.  The fact that you are here means you came because you wanted to or, probably more accurately, you are under orders.  So don’t pretend that you don’t know what I am talking about.”

Despite the fact that he was coming willingly, the woman grabbed him by the arm and escorted Q to a waiting car.  While his words were challenging, Q was terrified.  He knew where he was going but no idea what would happen when he got there and if he would be able to leave.  Depending on what James had been looking for, or what he found, Q could face a life sentence or just instant execution.  From what he knew about the secret service, they could make you disappear without any consequence. 

The car ride was tense, an unease settling over Q while the two agents who drove seemed completely at ease though neither of them spoke.  As the city flashed by, lights slowly coming on and people heading home from a full day of work and play, Q watched and tried to take it all in.  If this was his last moment of freedom – or of life – he wanted to remember the beauty of his city and not just the horror that awaited him.

The MI6 building was large and cavernous at the entry, teal coloured windows casting a dim light over the main room.  Q suspected that in sunlight, this would be quite striking but now in the fading light, the tinted windows made the situation seem even more sinister.

The male agent half-pulled, half-dragged Q through the darkening room and into a much smaller, much more brightly lit hallway.  Taking turn after turn, stairs and lifts, Q tried to remember the way back out but soon gave it up as futile.  While he could remember everything he had ever read, the labyrinth that was this building left him stymied and he could only hope that they showed him to the exit when this was all over.  In the end, their destination was a small gray room, furnished with only a metal table and two stiff looking chairs.  A mirror on one wall confirmed what Q expected – this was to be an interrogation. 

Leaving him on his own – after ridding him of his phone and other devices – the agents locked the door behind him.  There was nothing to read, nothing to tinker with.  Just a sterile room with no distractions but his own reflection.  The clock on the wall ticked off the minutes and then the hours while Q sat there, eventually laying his head on his arms and trying to sleep.  “The least you could have done was offer me a bed,” he said toward the mirror, assuming people were watching him on the other side.  “I thought we were more civilized here in England.”

As far as he could tell, it had to have been well past midnight when the door finally opened and a middle aged man walked in, looking him over with a quiet disinterest.  “Do you know why you are here, Mr. Boothroyd?” He asked, taking the seat opposite him.  In his crisp linen suit, the man could have been anyone out on the street.  There was nothing remarkable about him whatsoever and Q struggled to memorize his face so that if he managed to get out of this, he could turn and go the other way if he saw this man coming. 

“I assume I’m here because you sent an agent to my house to steal something from me and I figured it out.  You either had to abduct me or kill me in order to guarantee my silence on the matter of our government stealing from its own citizens.”  He paused then added, “More than they normally do, that is.” 

The man looked momentarily surprised but schooled his features almost immediately.  “And do you know what was taken from you?  Do you understand the significance of it?”  Sliding the notebook across the table, Q recognized it immediately, even though he had never looked through it.  “Do you know why we needed it?”

To be honest, Q wasn't certain what was in the book that was so important.  Having never read it, he couldn’t begin to fathom what his father had written would warrant this reaction from the secret service.  He had seen what was in the books that got left behind and knew they were heretical.  If MI6 wasn’t interested in those designs, the information contained in the book that lay in front of him had to have touched a nerve deep within the government.  Reaching out for the book, Q jumped when the man slammed his hand down on top of it and took it back.  “If you didn’t want me to look at it, you shouldn’t have passed it to me.”  Sarcasm – his last line of defense. 

“We know all about you, Mr. Boothroyd.  You have an eidetic memory for words and diagrams.  If you have seen inside this book, you already know the information it contains.  If you have not seen it, then we will not be giving you even more knowledge than you already have.  As Major Boothroyd’s son, I am sure much of his knowledge was passed down to you, particularly since no one expected you would live as long as you have.”  Q’s brow furrowed at the mention of his father as Major Boothroyd.  No one ever mentioned his father’s service before and Q would have remembered if the information was somewhere in the flat.  Though he didn’t pay attention to the notebooks either before it was too late…

“What are you going to do with me?  I haven’t seen inside that book.  It sat on the shelf since before my parents died.  I had no need for it and it certainly didn’t look as interesting as the engineering and math texts that I read in my spare time.  So if you are looking to find out what I know, the answer is nothing.  I have learned more about my father in the last twelve hours than I did the entire time he was alive.  The fact that you know so much about him tells me that he was important to the rest of the world and not just to me but I also know that you have no intention of telling me why.  So kill me, if that is what you are going to do.  Get it over with already.”  His heart pounded in his chest and Q was certain the man across the table could see it through the light shirt he was wearing before they abducted him.

The man shook his head, “We aren’t going to kill you.  But we need to make sure you are telling me the truth.  M and 007 shall be here soon and they will want a word with you.” 

“M?  007?  You are just making things up now, right?”  The lights flickered and Q was reminded just how late it was.  “Does this building use half the energy in the city?  You shouldn’t be able to have it this bright all night long.  Energy is rationed, you know.”  It infuriated him that people were forced to collect so much energy every day and then the government could just throw it all away on lighting a large building all night long that probably had no more than twenty people in it at this hour.  “My inventions weren’t to make your lives easier.  They were so we could win the war and be done with all of this.”

“We will get to your inventions shortly,” came a gruff female voice from the door and Q’s head spun to see an older woman walk in.  His eyes glanced right over her because just behind him was none other than James Bond.  “First, we must discuss your father.  “Tanner, will you please excuse us?”  The man across from him – Tanner – nodded and left the room.  “Q?  I’ve been told that is what you like to be called.  Did you know your father worked for us up until his death?” 

Q blinked at her, his attention pulled away from James Bond and now centered wholly on the intimidating woman.  His father had traveled for work when he was still alive, but Q had always assumed he was in some sort of  business.  It would never have occurred to him that his soft-spoken father worked for MI6.  “He wasn’t a spy.  He was an engineer like me.  He taught me everything he knew.”  As soon as the words left his mouth, Q knew they were the wrong ones.  “Or so I thought,” he added, hoping to mitigate some of his mistake.    

“We were rather hoping you would say that.  We need someone who understands these notes, someone who can make these plans into reality.  Before your father died, he was working on a project for us, the notes of which are in that book.  Even a cursory glance at it tells us that no one here will be able to accomplish this work.  You will.”

For a brief moment, Q’s mind swam with the idea of being able to do a project with his father, even if they were working nearly two decades apart.  But the practical side stopped him from screaming out an acceptance.  “It would depend on what you are asking of me and just trying to explain it won’t be enough.  I need to look over the notes, to see if it is even something I can do.”  Q had little doubt that he would be able to finish whatever his father started but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.  The books that had been left behind scared him in their open disregard for society.  He feared what might be in this one.

“The woman nodded, “007 will stay with you as you look over the notes.  I expect your answer by sunrise.  Otherwise, we will send you out to walk home.”  The hint of malice in her voice told Q that they knew very well that such a walk in the daylight would be fatal.  As far as threats went, it was effective.  Seemingly insignificant but sufficiently terrifying. 

She handed the book to James and told him in no uncertain terms, “Do your job, 007.  Whatever it takes.”   With that, she exited, leaving Q and Bond alone once more; one looking furious and the other looking somewhat apologetic.

“Q, I…”  Bond trailed off as Q held up his hand.

“I don’t want to hear it.  Just give me the book so I can get started and go back to my life.  Once we’re done, I never want anything to do with this ever again.  Or you.”


	7. Chapter 7

Bond, for his part, stayed quiet.  He handed the book to Q and took a seat in the far corner of the drab room.  Q stared at him for a moment, green eyes penetrating and questioning but when he felt assured that James wasn’t going to ask anything else of him, Q took the book and got to work. 

Where the books in his flat were weapon designs, this was something else entirely.  It was beautiful in its intricacy but he didn’t know how they would even consider something like this.  There was no doubt that no one in this building would be able to pull it off.  Maybe not even Q himself.  He steadied himself and looked at the clock.  Eight hours until sunrise.  Eight hours to figure everything out and find a way to stay alive.  He wasn’t going to build this, no matter what the risk, but if he could also survive, that would be a plus. 

His entire life, the war had been about solar energy.  The desire to gain more of it, the fact that for such a cloud laden country, England used more energy than the rest of the world combined.  They took and took and took and never gave back.  As the population grew, demand for power grew with it.  Instead of limiting people as the other northern countries had done, England sought energy from other parts of the world.  There were British colonies in more of the tropical regions of the world than there were independent nations.  The energy was collected and returned to England where it was used for everything from cooking to lighting to transportation.  Very few people thought where their energy came from, just knew that it was there and always had been.

The war had been an effort to gain even more but the government had overstepped.  The south part of France was sparsely populated compared to the rest of the country and with all that sunlight for the taking, the British crown sent troops in and established a colony, inside France’s borders.  No energy had ever made it back from the French colony.  Every shipment was destroyed by the French army, wasted as far as either country was concerned.

These were things Q knew, which was more than the general population.  Everyone knew they were fighting with France but it was generally believed that the energy coming in from that colony far outweighed the cost of the war.  Q once questioned why it was so important that they keep fighting if nothing was coming from it but was told that they would be getting the first shipment soon and to remember his place.  He had no reason to believe otherwise and so kept his mouth shut.

Glancing over his father’s notes, Q started putting together the pieces of a puzzle he didn’t even know he was looking at before tonight.  The war.  The lack of benefit.  People dying for nothing.  The colony was small, hardly worth twenty years of fighting but the British pushed on, claiming they would defend it until the last citizen drew breath if that was what was necessary.  England had lost many people in the war but the French had suffered the most.  Thousands of French citizens had died, innocent bystanders caught in a war neither side understood. 

But now Q did.  He knew what it was all about and horror gripped at his heart. 

The first time James Bond moved since taking his seat was when Q dove for the bin, retching helplessly into it well after his stomach was empty.  He felt the lightest touch on his back, warm and comforting.  If he had been feeling well, he would have jerked away but right now, it was grounding him as everything fell into place.  “I’ve been helping them,” he said softly, head bowed.  He didn’t expect a response and he didn't get one.  “I’ve been helping them destroy a country, bit by bit.  This was never about energy, was it?  This was a different type of power.”

Finally glancing up, Q felt surprised at the depth of emotion he saw in James’ ice blue eyes.  Then he understood, Q thought miserably.  He understood even if he still worked for them, James hated this as much as Q did.

“It is about both.”  James moved back to his seat when it became clear Q was done being sick.  “But the energy they are after isn’t just there.”

“They want France,” Q sighed, sitting back in his chair as his shoulders slumped forward.  Maybe if he collapsed in on himself far enough, he would wake to find this a horrible dream.  “Not just that part.  They want all of it, except its people.  That’s why there are so many civilian casualties.  We are slowly marching our way through the country, eliminating anyone who gets in our way.”

James nodded, “There is not one French person behind the line.  There haven't been civilian casualties for many years now but only because the country evacuated its citizens.  The south of France is nothing but the British invaders and the last stand of France’s military.”  Fear gripped Q’s chest but he continued to stare at James, wanting to know everything that wasn’t in the book in front of him.  “I’ve been there, Q.  I served on the front line of our Naval forces.  No energy is coming back from there because they aren’t even harvesting it.  Everything we have done and we have nothing to show for it, except a few hundred square miles of the French countryside.”

“And the deaths of thousands of people,” Q added mutinously.  “So this,” he gestured to the book, “would destroy every power cell in France.  With a push of a button, the entire infrastructure of the country would go down.”

“It goes deeper than that, Q.  Think about the implications.  There would be no communication.  There would be no heating or cooling.  There would be no way to get food to the people.  All of France would slowly starve or freeze to death.  Our army would only need to sit back and wait, then walk on Paris without any opposition.  You would be handing the British crown the prize it has wanted for over two decades.  At the expense of the lives of a couple million people.”

“Then kill me.”  Q pushed the book back, glaring at James.  “I won’t do it and I will destroy this book if you try to make me.”

James stood and moved to stand closer to Q.  He held his breath, certain death was coming in a moment’s time.  Q’s mind raced, trying to decide if he had time to destroy the book in front of him before James killed him.  Instead, the agent leaned in close and whispered, “I’m not going to kill you.  You are going to help me stop them.”

He snapped back so fast, Q almost hit James head with his own.  “What?”

“I told you, I was there Q.  I saw what they were doing.  They won’t listen to reason.  When I couldn’t find a way to stop them in the Navy, I retired and joined MI6.  I need you.  We can stop this and no one else needs to die.”

Searching his face, Q saw nothing but honesty there.  “What do you want me to do?”

The smile James gave him was the first warmth he had seen since arriving and he relaxed a little as James leaned over him, pulling the book close.  With each passing word, Q felt the panic dissipate.  “Tell them you will do it,” James insisted when they were done.  “I’m not an engineer but you are.  Do you think you can do it?”

Q nodded.  It wouldn’t be easy but if it was, MI6 wouldn’t believe he was doing what they asked.  But he could do this.  Quick scribbles, some notes of what needed to be adjusted and where, and Q was ready.  “What will they do when they figure out what I’ve done?”

“What we’ve done,” James countered.  He shrugged, “They will probably issue a warrant for our arrest but we both know that they would kill us before we were ever brought into custody.  What I am counting on is that I can hide us well enough that they don’t find us until after the rest of the world steps in and stops the atrocities.”

Most likely, they were going to die.  Q only gave them about a five percent chance of survival and that was being generous.  But, if he was going to die, either way, he was going to go out doing something that mattered.  “My father declined actually building this, didn’t he?  That’s why they died.  He knew too much but wasn’t willing to follow it through to the end.”  He would finish what his father started, even if it meant following in his footsteps.

In the end, the equipment turned out to be a lot simpler to build that Q had anticipated.  Not that it was easy.  It was by far the hardest thing he had ever constructed and it took five straight days of work before it was complete.  Bond stayed by his side the entire time, acting as his bodyguard.  Even in MI6, only three people had clearance to know what Q was building and James kept everyone else away. 

“Is it done?” M asked when she returned a week later.  Q nodded, knowing there was nothing more that he could do now.  “Why don’t we test it out, shall we?”

Thanking Apollo himself for the foresight to plan for this occasion, Q had them bring him a power cell, hooking the machine to it.  “Obviously, this is small scale.  We don't want to take down London or all of the kingdom.  When it comes time to implement in the field, this switch here needs to point up.  Also, on the larger scale, it will take longer to see the effects.  It will communicate with every power cell on the grid and then they will go down simultaneously.  Within the hour, the country should be down.”  He only hoped an hour would give them enough time.

“Let’s see it then.”  He nodded and hit the button.  The machine buzzed to life and Q smiled proudly when the power cell went out, all of its energy draining into a battery attached to his equipment. 

“It has enough space to hold all the energy currently maintained by France.  Not only will the country go down, but Britain will gain everything they have in the process.”

M nodded, looking pleased.  “Well done, Q.  You may return home but stay close.  We may need you again soon.”  She turned and left the room, her faithful Chief of Staff taking the machine from them and following close behind.

“How long do we have now?” Q asked when the door shut behind them. 

Bond shrugged, “A few days at most.  The moment that machine goes live, we will be the most wanted men in the country.  Are you still sure of this?”

“As sure as I am of anything.  Come on, I need to pack.  It’s time for you to follow through on your end of the deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this has been so long in coming! I hope the chapter made up for it with a glimpse into the less than utopian world the boys live in. Will try to update more often but no promises. :)


	8. Chapter 8

They were already out of town when the government figured it out. 

Q had packed the moment he got back to his flat.  Eventually, they would find out what he did, whether it was when his equipment was activated or when they discovered his deception.  Either way, he was a dead man if he stayed in London.  His condition made travel difficult, considering all transportation ran on solar power but he trusted James.  Bond had promised a place to hide but Q had heard nothing from him since he dropped him off at home.

A firm rap on his door early one evening had his heart in his throat and Q only released his breath when he saw Bond on the other side of the doorstep.  “They’re deploying it at dawn.  Want it to hit at the peak of collection time.  So we have three hours.  We need to go. Now.”  A flurry of activity as Q grabbed his bag and the few pieces of equipment that he wouldn’t be able to manufacture himself.  Bond disappeared into Q’s study, returning with all of Q’s notebooks as well as his father's.  “They will not fall into the government’s hands.” 

“I… hadn’t even thought about that,” Q admitted.  He had been so concerned with getting out of London that he didn’t think much about what he was leaving behind.  “They’re going to tear this place apart, aren’t they?”  Of course, they would.  If they were discovered before the entire plan could go through, the government would stop at nothing to get them.  They would be tried for treason and crimes against the Crown, and while Q had accepted the cost, that didn’t mean he was willing to forfeit his life without a fight.

Bond stuffed the books in a bag he was carrying, not bothering to answer Q’s question.  He knew the answer and so did Q.  At this point, fear was speaking more than the clever, well-spoken engineer.  “Is that everything, Q?”  Bond’s eyes darted around the cluttered flat.  A life told in books and papers, in pictures and mementos.  It was a life lived indoors, yes, but one that Q considered well-lived all the same.

He nodded, picking up a picture of him and his parents, biting his lip for a moment before handing it to Bond to put in the bag with the books.  “Let me grab my cat and we will be ready.”  If not for the threat of torture and death which hung over their heads, Q would have found James’ expression humorous.  “I’m not leaving my cat, James.” 

Knowing it was a losing battle, James took the bag from Q’s hands and muttered, “Hurry up.”  Q still didn’t know how they were going to get there but he wasn’t leaving his cat, no matter what form of transportation they were taking.

His tabby Schrodinger now securely in his arms, Q locked the door on the way out, laughing miserably at himself.  Not like the locks mattered anymore.  He doubted he would ever see the place again, no matter how sad that made him.  His home, the only place he had ever lived was no longer his.  It hurt but he knew that right now, survival was more important than nostalgia.

In the front seat, Schrodinger glared at James from where he sat on James’ lap.  “How far do you think we are going to get?” Cris asked, looking up at the rapidly darkening sky.  “I developed the power systems in most cars.  Even with a good battery, we can’t go very far after dark before we need to recharge.” 

“Q,” James smirked as they pulled out onto the street, “Have you learned nothing over the last few days?  One of the lessons you should have taken to heart was that the government does not care about things such as rationing or overuse of energy.  At least not when it benefits them.”  Opening a compartment in the front of the car, Q could see several switches.  None of them were labeled and he turned to James, brow raised with the question clearly written on his face.  “Each of those is a battery.  We have enough to cover the length of England tonight without ever having to stop.” 

Q had never even considered such a thing, shaking his head.  “Crap.  I’m glad you have it now but think about how wasteful that is.  We have to turn our lights off at eight every night and the government has cars that can run all night long?”  Every time he learned more, he was shocked, even though he kept telling himself not to be.  “Where are we going?  I thought we would be heading to France. They will at least be more likely to protect us than anyone here in England.” 

“Scotland, actually.  I have a home there.  We can hide there until this blows over.”

“Are you kidding me?  We are going to someplace you own?  Did it not occur to you that it might be the first place they are going to look?  Are you taking me there to die?  I thought you were protecting us.”  Panic was bubbling up in his chest and Q found it hard to breathe. Bracing his hands on the dash, he took deep, shuddering breaths until he could think clearly once more.  His movement caused the cat to hiss and jump behind the seat, clearly unhappy to be shifted.

“Breathe, Q.  Please trust me.  I’m not taking you there to die.  I’m just as guilty in their eyes as you, so relax and listen.”  Bond waited until Q’s breathing returned to something resembling normal before he continued.  “You are not the only one who knows how to keep secrets. The house is under the name of someone that, on paper, has no connection to me.  There is no reason for anyone to even consider that it is mine.  Besides, they are all expecting us to leave the country.  You can bet that MI6 will be combing all of France looking for us if they figure it out but MI5 won’t consider looking within our borders.  Trust me and have a little faith.”

Trust was a hard thing to come by, particularly right now when their lives were at risk.  And Bond had gotten to know him under less than truthful circumstances.  But he was the reason Q was still alive in the first place.  And he had helped Q redesign and build the equipment.  There were a few reasons not to trust James and all the reasons in the world to do so.  James was the only person who could keep him alive.

“Alright.  So we have enough power to get there before sunrise?”  While Q wasn’t sure where in Scotland the house was but a quick calculation told him that unless it was just on the other side of the border, they were going to be cutting it close.  “I brought my cream but I would prefer not to use it.  I’ve only tested it in the afternoon and I don’t know how well it would hold up for a full day.”

James smiled, a kind expression that caught Q off guard for a moment.  “We will be there.  And there are rooms with no windows so I will have you sleep in one of those until we can make other arrangements.”

Reassured, Q slipped into a comfortable silence, watching the country fly by outside his window.  He grinned when they passed the first CCTV camera.  He hacked into it to erase the image of them driving past only to find that it was off for the night.  The government truly did not believe anyone would go out and do anything in the dark.  They were as undetected as could be and it gave him a small amount of hope that this might actually work.

The farther out of London they got, the darker it became.  Even in the dead of night, there were still a few lights around the city but outside of town, there was nothing but stars, moonlight, and the headlights of James’ car to break the almost oppressive darkness.  With his condition, Q thought he was used to the dark but this was something else.  Almost as if the world was caving in on you, and the only thing you could see was your hand just in front of your face.  

The darkness seemed to drag on for eternity.  Even the small towns they passed through offered no relief from the dark.  As they drove through Leeds just after three in the morning, Q had never been so thankful to see artificial light, even if they were few and far between.

They passed the drive in silence, James focusing on the road that twisted and turned with little warning in the darkened night.  Q sketched some things in his book, unable to see if the drawings were any good because of the low light but it gave him something to do and he would always be able to fix it when they got to this house James was talking about.

Finally, as the light was starting to break through the dead of night, they pulled up to imposing manor.  The façade was cracked and fading, the gate half off its hinges.  It hardly looked like a place anyone would want to live which was probably one of the reasons Bond had chosen it. 

“This is it,” Bond said, voice tighter than Q remembered hearing before in their time together.  “It’s in the name of a family friend, Kincaid, but technically it is mine.  There is no paperwork linking it to me, though, so I don’t think they will check here.”  As he spoke, Bond pulled the car into a side building and opened the door for Q who had to practically pry the cat out.  They made their way across the small space between the buildings and with a turn of the lock and a mighty shove with his shoulder, James got the door open and ushered Q inside as the first rays of sun broke the horizon.  “There’s a room over here with no sunlight.  I’ll get you settled there and then work on getting this place in order.”

As much as Q wanted to argue, the large windows offered little in the way of protection and so he acquiesced with little argument. 

“Get some sleep, Q,” Bond said, closing the door behind him.

The bed was massive, with threadbare linens but it seemed to be in good enough shape.  Considering the fear he had felt and the long drive, it wasn’t long before exhaustion took over and Q slipped into a deep, restful sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

For the first few nights, Q lived in fear.  Most of his time was spent near the windows, peering out into the darkness of the Scottish moors.  Having grown up in London, there was always some sort of light, some sort of activity.  But aside from the manor where they were living and the small home next to it where the man, Kincaid, lived, Q wasn’t sure there was another living soul for miles. 

The darkness, instead of being oppressive as it had felt on their drive up here, was comforting now that they were in one place.  There was no way anyone would be able to sneak up on them without having to use a light of their own first.  And in the void that was the world outside, a small light would shine like a beacon, warning them of any oncoming danger.

Once he settled down, Q began to get back to work on his own projects, mainly solar panels he could install to the top of the home to take them off the network as best as he could.  He wanted to be invisible, completely gone as far as the government was concerned.  They had to be looking for them by now.  While news traveled slowly, Q was certain that by now, they would have heard if the plan had succeeded.  And since no word came, he lived under the assumption that they had been discovered and it was only a matter of time before they were found.

While Q often fretted and worried over what was going to happen in the future, his cat had settled in far more easily.  Schrodinger had always been an indoor cat, living with Q and keeping him company on the long nights he spent alone.  Now, however, Q had James and Schrodinger had acres upon acres of land to explore.  They found mice on the doorstep every morning and a very pleased (and plump) cat standing beside them.

Q and James ran on staggered schedules, one that gave them time together both in bed and out of it, but also time apart at the same.  Q generally retired to what was passing as their bedroom as soon as the sun came up, falling asleep by eight in the morning and sleeping through the day, only to get up around six at night and putter around until it was safe for him to leave the room.  James, by contrast, went to bed around two in the afternoon and would sleep until about midnight, getting up to spend most of the night with Q.  It was an odd schedule and Q knew James was having trouble adapting to it but he appreciated that he was trying.

“You don’t have to stay up all night to keep me company,” Q said one night as they ate dinner around two in the morning.  “I love having you around but if you would prefer to live a normal life, I wouldn’t mind.  I’ve lived most of my life in the dark by myself. I always expected I would do it for my whole life.” Q didn’t want to go back to the way things were before, alone and in the dark – literally – but he didn’t want to cause James discomfort either.  The man already put his life on the line to try and save Q.  He didn’t need to give up the sun for him as well. 

James stared at him for so long that Q began to wonder if he had something on his face.  Finally, James reached across the table, taking Q’s pale, slender fingers in his own rougher hands.  “I am not doing anything that I don’t want to do.  I want to spend time with you.  I didn’t save you out of the goodness of my heart so please stop apologizing.”  He realized early on the Q needed assurances.  So few good things happened in Q’s life that he had trouble accepting when they did.  Even if that good thing was being on the run for his life from a maniacal government intent on his death.

In espionage, good and bad were relative things.

“Thanks, James,” he said quietly, squeezing James’ hand once before going back to his meal.

During the day, James installed Q’s inventions, things that would be dangerous to deal with in the middle of the night. The solar panels on the roof now powered the whole house easily.  Kincaid’s as well.  Neither of the houses was on the grid anymore and being so far from any town unless someone came out this way looking for them, it was as if they no longer existed.

Once that was done, James got to work on other projects, ones he hadn’t yet told Q about.  They were small, things that wouldn’t be noticed right away, particularly when it was dark outside. 

“Q?”  The question rang down the hall to the room Q had claimed as his workshop in the massive estate home.  Already it looked like his home back in London with papers and notes scattered around the room, tools, and half completed projects lining the shelves.  It was the one place Q felt the most comfortable, something that felt familiar and safe. 

He stuck his head out of the room and smiled at James.  “You called?”

“Come here.  Kincaid brought the paper and there is something you need to see.”  James’ face was as unreadable as always and Q’s stomach dropped as he put down his work and slowly made his way to the dining room.  The sun had gone down but it wasn't quite dark yet, his favorite time of day.  With a sigh, Q stared out the window for a moment before completing the short journey.

James and Kincaid were hunched over a newspaper, both reading the same article.  It had to be important for James to interrupt his work so he pushed closer, feeling James’ hand rest on his lower back as he bent to read.

_British Government in Turmoil as Plot to Overthrow France Unveiled_

Despite the article being in French, Cris read through it with no problem.  It seemed that when they went to detonate the device, everything backfired and instead of giving the British government access to all the power in France, it gave the authorities in France unlimited access to all the confidential records of the British secret service.  Everything was in there from the original battle plans to take the south of France to the device they wanted Q to make.  Every record was meticulous in its detail and had led to the downfall of Britain.  “Good riddance to bad rubbish,” Kincaid spat, a surly grin on his face.  “Those Brits were never any good in the first place.  Now Scotland can keep her power for herself.  I think we will see great things from here very soon.”

Knowing he was included in the phrase _those Brits_ but also knowing that his country deserved every bit of ridicule and disdain from the rest of the world, he settled in to read the article once more.  All of the major figured in the government had been arrested and charged with various things from treason to collusion to murder and attempted murder.  None of them would see the outside of a prison for the rest of their lives and the country was in turmoil as it struggled to figure out what to do next. 

“So…” Q said softly, reading the article once more as if he couldn’t quite believe it.  “Does that mean we are safe?” 

Bond nodded, “I think we are.  Your machine worked exactly as planned.  It was good work.” 

Q felt bad for all the people of his country who were now struggling with electricity down and no government in place.  It would take years for Britain to recover from this.  It was hard to reconcile his feelings for the British people who were going to suffer because of their government’s actions with the pride he felt in knowing that those who wasted human life and precious resources on a needless war were now going to be prosecuted fully.  “We should plant a garden,” Cris sighed.  “Shipping lines are going to be down for a while.”  Judging by the hunting trophies on the wall, meat wasn’t going to be an issue but they would need vegetables for a while, at least until the country returned to whatever was going to pass as normal now.

“We can look into that.  Kincaid and I can build a greenhouse as well.  I think we have enough supplies in the out building.”  A greenhouse would make it easier for Cris to work in there at night, with lights overhead.  “But that isn’t the only news I have for you.  I will just need your help with the last part.” 

James took Q’s hand, leading him down the hall back toward the workshop.  The sun was gone completely and the world outside was plunged, once more, into darkness.  “I’m assuming in that mess you call an office, you have something that can test the amount of sunlight in any given place, correct?”  With all his research and development on the solar technology that powered their society, it only made sense in James’ mind, for Q to have something like that.

“I do.  Might take me awhile to find it.  Why?”

At one of the windows, James placed Q”s hand on it, who frowned when it didn’t feel like normal glass.  “What’s wrong with this?” he asked, leaning in for a closer look.

“UV blocking film.  It was what was in the boot of the car.  MI6 used it to put over solar panels to disable vehicles.  But I thought it might be useful here.  It’s the UV lights that are harmful to you, right?”  Q nodded, already seeing what James was about to say and feeling overcome with emotion at the mere thought.  “I have put it on all the windows on the first floor.  I didn’t have enough for the second floor but we really have no use for that area so it shouldn’t matter.”

Bond found himself with an armful of Q, who threw himself at the other in a tight hug.  “Thank you, James.  No one has ever done so much for me.” 

“I know you were concerned about us running on different schedules so I thought this would ease some of your concerns.  Now you can see the sun all the time, Q.  You don’t need to put on your cream to do it.” 

Q ran his hand reverently once more down the glass before turning to James with a different glint in his eyes.  “If I can be up during the day now, I suggest we go to bed.  _Right now_.” 

James smirked and picked Q up, whose musical laugh rang down the hallway.  “I always knew you were a genius,” he grinned, James’ mouth finding Q’s neck, nipping at the skin as he carried him to their room for the rest of the night.


	10. Five Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small bit of smut and a whole lot of fluff in this chapter.

_**~ Five Years Later ~** _

“James!” Q laughed, holding onto his lover’s hand.  “I know I live my life in the dark but blindfolds are really not my thing.”

“Only a few more steps and we’ll be there.”  James led him through the house, Q memorizing every turn, every change in flooring.  If Bond wanted to surprise him, leading him directly there really wasn’t the best way.  “Don’t argue with me and simply enjoy the anticipation.”

Q snorted, “The anticipation of going to the greenhouse that you’ve banned me from for the past month?  Trust me, I would have been anticipating it even without the blindfold.”  Q hated things being kept from him, even if they were supposedly gifts. 

Two greenhouses now stood on the property.  The first one was not attached the main home and was where they grew most of their fruits and vegetables in the winter.  Q worked in that one many nights a week, helping repot plants and harvest what they needed for the next day’s meals.  But the one attached to the home?  He heard the activity in that greenhouse every day while he tinkered in his own shop but James hadn’t let him in.  Not until today.  “Okay, five more steps and we will be there.  Can I take off the blindfold now?”

“Not until I tell you to.”  They crossed the five steps, paused, and took a few more.  The smell of wet soil tickled his nose and the moist air caressed his cheeks the moment they stepped inside.  So it really was a greenhouse then, he thought to himself.  He really had no idea what Bond and Kincaid had been up to, and considering the lengths they went to keep it a secret, he suspected it wouldn’t be what it seemed.

Finally, they came to a stop and Q felt James let go of his arm.  Without further ado, James removed the blindfold from Q’s eyes and handed him his glasses.  He blinked a couple times, adjusting to the bright light in the room.  Once he could see properly, he felt his heart hammer in his chest at what James had made for him.

While he still had the cream that allowed him outside, he didn’t go out very often.  The first year in the house had been spent getting it set so he could live there comfortably without having to worry about accidental exposure to the sun.  The windows were well coated with a UV blocking material f his own design so even when the curtains were open, Q could walk around without fear

Outside, they set up a series of solar powered lamps that lit all the walkways around the estate at night, making it easy for Q to go to the greenhouse or the garage without tripping over any stray root or branch that might have fallen into the path during the daylight hours.

But for everything they did to make it home, Q still couldn’t go outside very often, and certainly not as much as he would have liked.  He’d never been to the moors of Scotland before and while it was nice to be able to gaze out at them from the windows every day, there was nothing like being there for oneself.

Which was why his heart pounded in his chest as he looked out over the greenhouse.  James and Kincaid had brought the moors inside. A small creek ran down the middle of space, with the grassy knolls rolling softly out to the sides of the room.  The windows had been covered with the same UV blocking material that covered the windows in the house, allowing Q to look out over the space outside without danger.  Inside, warming lamps kept the room comfortable enough to be out in any weather without even a coat necessary.  A light of Q’s own design hung from the middle of the room, giving off the light and warmth the plants needed without harming Q himself.  He never expected it to be used for his own enjoyment, though.  He’d only invented it so James wouldn’t have to do all the greenhouse work himself.

“James,” he breathed, turning to look at his lover.  “This is perfect.  You did all this for me?”

James’ arm wrapped around Q’s waist.  “I know it bothers you that you can’t go out with Kincaid and myself.  I wanted to give you the opportunity, even if it is a very small scale.” 

“It’s perfect.”  Q started to wonder around, hands brushing over the grass and running his fingers through the water.  “I’ve never had anyone ever make something for me before.  They’ve always wanted something from me instead.” He turned back to James, “You have amazed me since the moment I saw you walk by at the café.  But this is… This is more than I have ever expected.”

James smiled a warm expression that seemed to lights up his whole face.  “It isn’t just for you,” he grinned.  Q noticed James smiled more now.  He’d never been a particularly happy person, even during those first few meetings in the café.  Sure, he smiled, but the light never reached his eyes.  Now, James seemed to glow from the outside and Q’s original nickname of Apollo seemed even more apt.

“Well, of course, you and Kincaid and Schrodinger will use it too.”  Q had little doubt that the cat would practically live in the room.  It turned out that while Schrodinger loved being outside, he hated to be cold, wet, or inconvenienced in any way.  This room would provide the perfect compromise for Q’s finicky feline. 

Stepping forward, James pointed to a tree on the far side of the greenhouse.  While not large now, Q knew it would grow to be a decent size in a few years.  “I was thinking we could hang a swing from that as soon as the branches are sturdy enough to support it.”

“Swing?  Why would we need a….?”  Q trailed off, finally seeing where James was going.  “Children?”

James nodded and took his hand.  “We are both orphans Q, and the war has left so many more in this country.  We have a lot of space and are better off than almost anyone else in England.  If you are okay with it, I would love to send in the paperwork to get the process started.”

Instead of a verbal answer, Cris tackled him, kissing him to within an inch of his life.  “I’ve always wanted that, James, but never thought it would be possible.  How could I raise a child on my own when I can hardly go outside when it is light?  But between the two of us, I know we can do it.”  With the giant manor home and plenty of money coming in now from Q’s inventions that allowed people to collect and use their own solar energy instead of having to put it toward the government’s war, they could easily support and raise several children without a problem. 

“Kincaid told you were a terror as a child.  Did he help raise you?”  The thought of James as a child had Q laughing between kisses, joy bursting from him. 

“He did,” James smiled, his hands roving up and down Q’s back.  “Maybe he will help us.  Try and get one right for a change.” 

Q rolled his eyes, hands beginning to work the buttons on James’ shirt open.  “You turned out wonderfully and I can only hope that or children turn out just as great.”  He kissed down his lover’s neck, working his shirt open so he could kiss his chest as well.

James hummed as Q worked his shirt off and opened his trousers before flipping them over and doing the same for his young lover.  Q cried out in pleasure and soon the two lost themselves in each other’s bodies. 

As they made love under the pseudo sun of the greenhouse, in the grass of the moors outside, Q briefly marveled at how far his life had come in the past few years.  Five years ago, Q was held prisoner both by his condition and his importance to the government.  Even when he didn’t know his prison, he still lived in it.  He was so very alone in every possible way.

And then, a beautiful, brilliant man entered in his life, a man who brought sunshine to someone who’d lived their entire life at night.

James pressed inside him and Q tipped his head back, gasping in pleasure.  His eyes opened and his sight fell on the artificial sun that allowed this room to grow yet still maintained his health and safety.  Not only had James freed him from the dark metaphorically but he brought more light into it in every possible way.

When they first met, Q had no idea how apt his first impression was.

James truly was Apollo, his own personal sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who stuck around for this crazy ride! I've finally finished it and I hope it lived up to everyone's expectations. Love you all! -J

**Author's Note:**

> Since solarpunk isn't a huge thing, I am making up my own rules. Basically 1910 aesthetic: music, clothing, art. Picture art nouveau meets solar power. But at the same time, they still have everything we have today, simply all solar paneled.
> 
> A glimpse into [what I imagine for the world](http://astudyinfic.tumblr.com/post/124974288504/the-world-of-my-new-fic-into-the-light-think).
> 
> And for your auditory pleasure, [my playlist for writing this piece.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL8Lcu1C_1yFYfuG6DCx9nEAMiv12B4TDv)
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [astudyinfic](http://astudyinfic.tumblr.com)


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